The Davis Family
by allieisrandom
Summary: This fic starts about 20 years before the beginning of the show. I don't own anything.
1. Chapter 1

The Davis Family-Chapter 1

Isabelle Victoria Matiya-soon to be Isabelle Matiya Davis-starred at her beautiful reflection in the bathroom mirror. Every hair on her head was tucked into place. Every eyelash was touched with just the right amount of mascara. Every fold of her dress was soft and unwrinkled.

She was so beautiful she was hardly human.

"Oh, Isabelle," whispered Marion Armstrong, her best friend and maid-of-honor. "You're _so_ lucky."

Isabelle smiled back knowingly. Out of all the dozens of people who had congratulated her, Marion alone understood _why_ she was so lucky. Most people thought she was lucky because of how kind and charismatic Ken Davis was, or because of how good looking he was, or a combination of that fact. It had just so happened that the heir to Davis Farms happened to be not only handsome and charming but also very sweet. But if he had been a balding middle-aged man with the manners of a swineherd, Isabelle would have taken it. This wasn't just a marriage for her, it was a promotion.

"I am going to be Mrs. Kenneth Davis," Isabelle whispered to herself. "People are going to look at me and see a somebody. I am going to be able to afford all the nice things I want. I'll be allowed to go into the country club and drink margaritas by the pool. I can ride in a limo all over town and…"

"And wear diamonds everywhere we go that thieves could cut themselves on!" said Marion. Both women started laughing. "Oh, Izzy, I'm so happy for you," said Marion, leaning in to hug her friend.

"Careful!" said Isabelle, stepping back. "No messing up the dress!"

"Oh! Sorry!" said Marion, stepping back.

"It's time, ladies," said Isabelle's father, stepping out of the shadows and taking her on his arm. He looked down at Isabelle and smiled. "Marrying a Davis. Wow. I never thought I'd be so proud of my little girl."

Isabelle smiled, refusing to let her eyes tear up because she didn't want to mess up her makeup.

The doors opened, and several little flower girls, ring bearers, bridesmaids, and groomsmen all came tricking out, one by one. Then came Marion and finally Isabelle. She had never felt such an intense feeling of euphoria in her life as she walked across the long red carpet, sprinkled with soft petals, down the path to the perfect life she'd always dreamed of. The path to pure luxury.

At the end of the isle, Ken Davis was almost crying at he saw his beautiful bride floating towards him. He looked at that beautiful smiled. That smile that always told him how much she loved him.

He glanced away briefly at his parents, Grant and Regina Davis, sitting on the closest bench to him. His father caught his eye and smiled. Grant had never liked a girlfriend of Ken's before-in fact, he had detested all of them. But this one he seemed to approve of. Isabelle was cultured, well mannered, and elegant: everything that a Davis should be. But Ken wasn't marrying her for any of those reasons. He was marrying her because in the past few months, she was the only person who had always been there to support him and love him.

Then Ken glanced at another family that was there sitting a few rows behind his dad, which were some of Davis Farms's longtime rivals. Jean Williams-who was twenty-three years old, exactly ten years younger than Ken-was sitting in with her head resting on her fiance Pete Ritter's shoulder. Her father Henry gave Ken a slight smile when he looked his way, but then he resumed his natural sour-faced disposition. He was probably particularly annoyed today. Ken couldn't imagine why he would have even decided to show up, other than that maybe Jean had talked him into it? For one thing, Ken was still mad at Grant for stealing his jockey five years ago and winning the Sandpiper Classic. For another thing, he must be jealous of Ken's marriage. Unlike Ken, who was knew he was marrying a genuinely loving woman, Jean was marrying a total snake and everyone around her knew it.

Before Ken knew it, Isabelle was taking her hand in his. She was so beautiful. No, more than beautiful. She was…radiant. She was all Ken could focus on as he recited his wedding vows and said, "I do".

"You may now kiss the bride" were the most amazing words he had ever heard in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

The Davis Family Chapter Two

The following year went by in a flurry of amazing times. Photos in the winner's circle, dinners at the country club, vacations to Mexico and France and Spain. In short, everything that Isabelle had dreamed her life as a Davis would be.

"Good morning, Isabelle," said Grant Davis as she walked up to him in the stable.

"Good morning," said Isabelle. "How are you today?"

"Very well, thank you," said Grant. "I just stopped by Raintree Farms."

"Oh, really?" said Isabelle. "Is the colt that they're planning on selling anything special?" She didn't care much for horses and had flat out refused to let Ken teach him how to ride, but she was very much interested in where the Davis Family money was going.

"Nah," said Grant. "I didn't think he would be. His bloodlines aren't even that good. Besides, I doubt that stubborn old goat Henry would have sold him to me." Isabelle let out a light, fake laugh. "Did you know that Pete and Jean are going to have a baby?"

"Oh, no, I didn't," said Isabelle. "That's quite nice for them."

"I know," said Grant. "Lovely isn't it? Henry is so happy about it. Of course, he would be. That's is only child, and if _his only child_ never had any kids, then there would be nobody to take over his business someday."

Isabelle did not miss the select emphasis that Grant was putting on his words. "Just imagine," Grant continued. "Don't you think that the pitter-patter of little feet would brighten up the place? Meaning Raintree, _of course_."

"Yes, sure," said Isabelle. "Would you excuse me for just a moment? I think I feel a headache coming on."

"Oh, sure, my dear," said Grant. "I'll see you later."

As fast as she could without breaking her thousand-dollar high heeled shoes, Isabelle marched over to Ken's favorite living room, where she knew he'd be relaxing. "Good morning, darling," said Ken as Isabelle sat down next to him on the couch. "I was just watching these tapes of the Bristol Stakes and…honey? Are you feeling okay?"

"Well, I was just talking to your father," said Isabelle. "I think he was hinting to me that he wants us to have kids."

To Isabelle's horror, Ken's face lit up. "And you agree with him? Isabelle, nothing would make me happier!"

"Well you see the thing is, I never really pictured I would have…" Ken's face fell. "That many children," said Isabelle quickly.

"Oh no, honey. We don't have to have many," said Ken quickly. "No more than three."

Isabelle's face was white now. "Three?"

"Okay, maybe just two," said Ken. "Okay, _one_ then. Just one child. If it's a boy, we can name him after me. Kenneth Stratford Davis Junior!" Then he frowned. "No, I hate my middle name. I wouldn't do that to him. It would be something nice, thought, like Wallace or Walter."

"Ken?" called a voice from downstairs.

"Yes, Mother?" said Ken.

"Your father is looking for you in the stable!"

"Okay, I'll be right there," said Ken. He gave Isabelle a playful kiss on the cheek as he walked off.

Isabelle could not believe what had just happened. Shakily, she grabbed the nearest phone and dialed Marion's phone number. "Hey, Izzy!" said Marion. "We're still on for dinner tomorrow at the little French place?"

"Yes," said Isabelle. "You're not going to believe this. My father-in-law wants me to get pregnant." Marion gasped. "And Ken _agrees_ with him!"

"Isabelle!" said Marion. "I can't believe that _you_ are going to have a baby!"

"That's just it!" said Isabelle. "I can't _stand_ babies! I don't want to have to deal with getting up in the middle of the night and drool and-ugh!-diaper changing!"

"But you can get a nanny to do all that stuff for you, right?" said Marion.

"Even the thought of just holding the thing freaks me out," confessed Isabelle. "It's probably going to be all squirmy and gross, and plus if I drop it Ken will murder me."

"They're not that bad," said Marion. "Really. Besides, aren't Ken and Grant like the only two people who you have to make happy in order to stay where you are?"

"You're right," said Isabelle. She groaned. "Me. Getting pregnant. And having a baby. Oh my god. I _never_ saw that coming!"

"Just be sure to make it clear that you have to hire a nanny," said Marion. "Or two."

"Oh, believe me," said Isabelle. "I will."

Ken walked outside to see what Grant wanted. He couldn't wait to tell his mother and father the good news that Isabelle had a agreed to have a child. Then he realized that he didn't actually want to tell them. Then that would be get another thing that Ken was doing "right" that Grant could take credit for because he'd been dropping hints to Isabelle. Once Isabelle got pregnant and he found out, he would surely do the same thing he did when Ken got into Harvard business school, when he proposed to Isabelle, and when he agreed to become a partner in Davis Farms: "Wonderful job, son. See? Taking your old man's advice can only be good for you, hmm?" As if everything Ken did were solely Grant's decision.

So that's why Ken decided not to mention that he and Isabelle were having a kid.

But to Ken's surprise, his father wanted to talk about something entirely different. He was standing in the barn isle talking to an attractive young Hispanic woman. Her hair was a _very_ dark brown, almost black, and her skin was as tan as could be.

"Hey, Ken, come here a minute," said Grant.

"Sure," said Ken, practically jogging over to where his father was.

"Ken, I'd like you to meet our new horse trainer, Marisol deEsquelava," said Grant. "Marisol, this is my son Ken Davis."

"Hi, nice to meet you," said Ken. He held out his hand for her to shake.

"Nice to meet you, too!" said Marisol. Her accent was light but audible. Ken had to love her voice.

"Ken, Marisol just arrived here from El Salvador," said Grant. "I'd like you to show her the ropes, introduce her to all the horses, and then take her down to the trailers so she can settle in."

"We never make the horse trainers live in the trailers," said Ken.

"Shhh!" said Grant. "Just do what I told you. Trust me, it'll do you some good to get back into the swing of things with Davis Farms. Because let's face it, for the past year all you've done is spend time with Isabelle. And that's understandable, being newlyweds and all. But enough is enough."

"Okay, Dad, I get it," said Ken. "See ya."

"See you later," said Grant.

Ken shook his head as Grant walked away. "I'm sorry, he can drive me crazy sometimes."

Marisol laughed. Ken noticed how pretty her laugh was. "It's okay, I understand. My father is the same way. So controlling. He acts like I can never do anything without his permission."

"I know, right?" said Ken. "I know that I'm never going to be that way with my kids."

"Yeah, me neither," said Marisol.

"So, let's take a look at these horses of ours," said Ken.

Marisol smiled. "Show me the way."


	3. Chapter 3

The Davis Family Chapter 3

In one month's time, Isabelle was pregnant. "No, Ken," she mumbled, rolling over onto her stomach. "Not tonight."

"But Isabelle, it's been so long," crooned Ken. "What, are you expecting that we're not gonna have any sex until the baby is born?"

"Actually, yes," said Isabelle.

Ken shot up and turned the light on. "WHAT? You can't be serious!"

"Yes, I can," said Isabelle. "In fact, I think that until the baby is born you should go find yourself another bedroom to sleep in."

"I don't need to," said Ken. "We can sleep in the same bed without having sex. But are you seriously…"

Isabelle cut him off. "I think it's best that you're not tempted." Secretly, she was actually elated at the thought of having a bedroom to herself for the next eight months. This pregnancy was making her feel so sick and tired-and it was all Ken's fault. If it wasn't for the fact that he was the sole reason that she was living the life she had always wanted, she never would have agreed to this.

"You are seriously going to kick me out of our bed just because you're pregnant?" said Ken. "Do you even like being married to me?"

"Of course I do, Ken," said Isabelle. "Now shut up and let me sleep or go somewhere else."

"You know what?" said Ken. "Fine. I will!" He immediately began packing up all of his things to move into a different bedroom, the one across the hall. The noise made it impossible for Isabelle to fall asleep for the next hour until he was done.

The next morning, both Ken and Isabelle apologized for their behavior, but neither of them had forgotten what happened as Isabelle got dressed and left to go to the country club and Ken made his way down to the stables. "Good morning, Mr. Davis," said Marisol.

He smiled. "How many times have I told you? Call me Ken."

"All right, fine," said Marisol. "Ken. Anyways I've started the workouts. Kumbaya shaved two seconds off his time and Dashing Through The Snow shaved off three."

"Excellent," said Ken. "You're also working Quince and Bright Magic this morning, right?"

"Of course," said Marisol. Then she turned and walked away.

"Wait, Marisol?" said Ken.

She turned around. "Yes Mr….Ken."

Both of them smiled. "You're a woman, right?"

"Last time I checked," said Marisol. "Why?"

Ken lowered his voice and stepped closer to her. "Do you know if women are supposed to turn into complete psychos while they're pregnant?"

Marisol laughed. "I've heard that from men before. They do start acting a little funny. One day they're crying all the time and want you by their side, the next they hate everyone and want to be left alone. One day they're craving chili peppers, the next they're craving chocolate cake."

Ken starred at her blankly. "Okay. Thanks for clearing that up." Although he had no idea what she was talking about. What the hell was this about craving chili peppers?

"Anytime," said Marisol.

Two months later, Ken and Isabelle announced their pregnancy to Ken's parents. Both of them were thrilled, especially when Ken told them he was planning on naming the baby Kenneth Junior if he was a boy. "Are you sure you won't get confused, though?" said Regina Davis. "Having two people in the house with the same name and all?"

"No, I'm sure we'll come up with a nickname for him," said Ken.

"Why don't we just call him Junior?" said Isabelle, who was bored with Ken, Grant, and Regina's obsessive excitement about the baby.

"Okay, sure," said Ken. He gave Isabelle a quick kiss, delighted that she was at last taking an interest in their baby's name.

"I have to go take a nap," declared Isabelle. "Shouldn't you be down in the stables checking on Marisol and the horses or something?"

"Yep," said Ken. "See you later, darling."

"You too," said Isabelle. She was annoyed that her pregnancy was now public information. Now all her rich friends would be calling and they would want to talk about the baby. That was the last thing that Isabelle wanted to do. She didn't even want to _think _about the baby except as a sacrifice she was making to Ken and his family for letting them into their world.

Ken went outside and found Marisol standing by the rail keeping time on a young horse's workout. "Hey."

Her face lit up when she saw him. "Hey!" said Marisol.

"Guess what?" said Ken. "Isabelle's pregnant."

"Really!" said Marisol. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks," said Ken. That meant more to him than anything his parents could have had to say about it. He realized that was what he liked about Marisol. Unlike his fellow aristocrats, including his parents and Isabelle, she was real. She never sugar-coated anything. Every compliment, every sarcastic remark, every smile that came from her was genuine.

"So, how's Bright Magic doing?"

Marisol shrugged. "So-so. To tell you the truth, I don't know if he'll be ready for the race on Saturday."

"Meaning we should scratch?" said Ken.

"Yeah, I would," said Marisol. "Better safe than sorry."

"I'll talk to my dad about it," said Ken. "Just curious, do you think he's ever gonna be ready."

Marisol shrugged again. "Back in my country, he would be headed for the dog food factory. But personally…I would give him time. There's something to this horse that I'm not seeing yet. I know it."

"Okay," said Ken. "Whatever you say."

* * *

><p>Several months later, Isabelle walked through the house in the middle of the night, hoping that the flowery poofy shirt she was wearing would conceal her emerging baby bump. Not that everyone under the sun didn't already know that she was pregnant, because Ken had insisted on announcing it to <em>everyone<em>. The worst part was, Isabelle had to act like she was as excited as he was, even around everyone she lived with. Especially around everyone she lived with, in fact.

Isabelle crept closer to the kitchen, where a few cooks and maids were still awake and cleaning up. She sighed. That meant that it would still be a few minutes before she could sneak in and have some of the cream cheese that she was intensely craving these days. She leaned against the door and succumbed to a few more minutes of listening to the servants gossip. "Did you see the look that she gave him this morning? When he told her that he likes her new boots?"

"I know, she was positively glowing! And did you hear him telling her that he hopes she'll be working for this family a long time?"

"He's not just hoping-he went and helped her get her visa renewed so she can stay in the country!"

Isabelle frowned. What the hell were they talking about? Was one of their employees an illegal worker?

"No kidding! He actually went down to immigration with her?"

"Yes, and apparently he went on and on about how valuable she is around here!" Several people gasped. "Yes, and then when they got back she was so happy that she practically jumped into his arms."

"Wow! And you really think there's something going on between them-young Mr. Davis and the horse trainer?"

Isabelle froze instantly.

"Duh, it's obvious. He's never up in the house with Isabelle anymore. He's always in the barn with _her_."

"And the way that they both are when they're talking to each other…it's like nobody else even exists. He _must _be having an affair with her!"

Several people gasped.

"Why are you so surprised? If I was married to that cold-hearted bitch, I'd have an affair, too."

More gasps.

"What? She doesn't love Mr. Davis. She doesn't even care about her own unborn baby. She's a gold digger and a spoiled brat."

Isabelle marched back upstairs and into Ken's new bedroom and turned on all the lights. "Ken!" she whispered sharply.

"Huh?" said Ken. He opened his eyes for a split second, then closed them again. "Ow. What are you doing in here?"

"Are you having an affair with our horse trainer?" said Isabelle.

"What the…" said Ken. "Where did this come from?"

"ARE YOU?" she shouted.

"No!" said Ken. "I'm not. I've never cheated on you with anyone. That is the most ridiculous thing that I've ever heard in my life! Where do you come up with this stuff?"

"Nowhere," said Isabelle. She'd calmed down slightly. "Just maids gossiping. Sorry. They're all stupid."

"You can say that again," mumbled Ken. He rolled over and heard Isabelle flick off the lights and close his door.

It was true. He had never had an affair with Marisol. He had never even flirted with her.

Or had he?

Two friends _could_ give each other compliments all the time without being flirtatious. Right?

A businessman _could_ move heaven and earth to keep a valuable employee from getting taken away from him without thinking of her as anything else. Right?

Two grateful friends _could_ hug each other for two minutes nonstop without it meaning anything. Right?

Ken Davis did not sleep a wink for the rest of the night.


	4. Chapter 4

The Davis Family Chapter Four

The next morning, Ken went downstairs to the barn feeling completely confused. Was he attracted to Marisol, or wasn't he? He was leaning towards not. For one thing, he was married. For another thing, his wife was _pregnant._ For another thing, Marisol was a non-U.S. citizen with no family in the country who relied on her employer-_him_-for money, a place to live, and everything else. He could get sued for being involved with her. And for another thing…they were just too different. They didn't even grow up in the same country for god sakes!

Ken found Marisol sitting on a bench next to the practice ring waiting for another horse to come outside. She was wearing her new black riding boots, shinny jeans, a pale yellow tank top, and a warm smile: all of which Isabelle surely wouldn't be caught dead in. "Good morning!" said Marisol. "Guess what? Bright Magic shaved four seconds off his time this week! Didn't I tell you he was going to improve?"

"Yeah," said Ken. He sighed and sat down next to her by the arena.

"What's wrong, Ken?" asked Marisol.

"Isabelle said she heard some servants gossiping about us," Ken admitted. "They're convinced that you and I are…"

He'd hoped that he wouldn't have to say it, but she was starring at him blankly, completely unsuspecting.

Ken leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Having an affair."

Startled, Marisol jerked back instantly. "What? That's ridiculous!"

"I agree!" said Ken. "Completely!"

They looked at each other. Was it ridiculous? It had to be.

Just because they looked forward to seeing each other every single day…

Just because she always bought clothes hoping he would like them…

Just because he talked to her ten times more than he talked to Isabelle…

"I have to go back up to the house now," said Ken. "Isabelle has her ultrasound in a few hours. Leave the list of our horse's times on my father's desk, will you?"

"Sure," said Marisol, slightly mournfully.

Without even saying goodbye, Ken walked away.

Later that day, Ken discovered that he and Isabelle were having a boy. Everyone was thrilled. Ken put together a fancy nursery for him-he thought that Isabelle would help, but she informed him that that's usually the guy's job. All the while, Ken stayed away from the barn. On the rare occasions that he spoke to Marisol, it was on a purely professional level, and they could never look into each other's mournful eyes.

"I'm worried," Ken confessed to Isabelle one day as they sat in the parlor.

"Why?" said Isabelle.

Ken sighed. "I'm about to be a father in two months, and I have no idea what a father is supposed to be."

Isabelle had no idea how to answer that. "Well, you buy things for the kid and help them when they ask for it, right?"

"Yeah," said Ken. "And you tell them what to do all the time so they don't make mistakes."

"And you hire good nannies to take care of them," said Isabelle.

"Yeah!" said Ken. "My kids are going to have the best nannies ever."

"I know you will be good at that," said Isabelle. She was relieved that he knew that _she_ wouldn't be doing all the work.

But Ken still had a lingering doubt about whether or not he was going to be ready for fatherhood. The thought that he would way rather have been talking about this to Marisol than Isabelle crossed his mind, but he blocked it out. Then he turned on the TV and tried to use it to block her out of his mind.

* * *

><p>It was one month later. Isabelle rolled her eyes as Ken stormed out of the dining room. Luckily Grant and Regina were dining out for the night, so they hadn't witnessed his ridiculous display of emotion. "He'll come around," she mumbled. "He always does."<p>

Outside in the barn, Marisol was sitting on a bale of hay petting Bright Magic's nose. "I always knew you would be a winner," she whispered. Then she suddenly heard footsteps. Her heart started pounding. She would have recognized that brisk, determined walk anywhere. She looked up. There he was, looking as well groomed as ever but for the ragged, tortured look on his face. "Ken!"

"Can I stay at your place tonight?" asked Ken.

"Okay," said Marisol. She was so happy to have him talking to her again that it didn't even occur to her how weird his request was, considering that he lived in a mansion with eight bedrooms and she lived in a renovated horse trailer. He quickly followed her inside.

"Ken, what's wrong?" asked Marisol. "You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Ken sighed deeply. "Isabelle hates me."

"Maybe she's just being a pregnant psycho?" guessed Marisol. Secretly, her hear heart leapt.

"No, no," said Ken. "She hates me. She never wants to talk about the baby, she never wants to talk about me, she always _really_ hates it when I kiss her or touch her now…"

"I'm sorry," said Marisol. "I'm so sorry." She sat next to him on her narrow bed and wrapped her arms around him.

Ken looked at her, suddenly feeling alive again. "Can you be honest with me?"

"Of course," whispered Marisol.

"Did you miss me?" asked Ken.

Marisol put her head down on his shoulder. "More than words could say."

Ken looked at her. She looked at him. Every reason that he had had from staying away from her, Isabelle, her being his employee, them being too different, escaped from his mind in a flash. He leaned in closer, and his lips met hers.

Marisol almost thought about telling Ken that she loved him-a fact that she hadn't even dared admit to herself before this moment-but their mouths never pulled apart. Then kept holding onto each other as their fingertips pulled at buttons and zippers and they felt their various garments slide down onto the cold trailer floor. And before she knew it, they were completely wrapped up in each other, left clinging to their love for each other like a raft in the middle of a vast empty ocean.


	5. Chapter 5

The Davis Family Chapter Five

Isabelle sighed as she rolled over in her bed. She had been laying here since noon, waiting for Ken to come crawling back in and apologize. All she'd seen was servants coming in over and over to clean her things and move her stuff around.

Wait a minute…all her stuff was actually disappearing.

"Good morning, my darling," said Ken, walking right in and giving Isabelle a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm so sorry about our fight last night. But I'm about to make it up to you."

"Where are we going?" said Isabelle.

"It's a surprise," said Ken.

"You really think that this is a good time for a vacation?" said Isabelle. She was actually pleasantly surprised. Ken hadn't done anything like this since she got pregnant.

"Oh, we won't go too far," said Ken. "Here, put some nice clothes on."

Isabelle was giddy as she dressed up in a fancy maternity dress and put on her makeup and jewelry. Once she got downstairs, she realized that Grant and Regina were at a race that day along with a horse, Marisol, and a few grooms.

"Are we going to wait for your parents to get back so we can say goodbye?" asked Isabelle.

"Nah," said Ken. "They're busy."

"Okay," said Isabelle. She didn't really care either way. Then she noticed that the servants had put all of their stuff into a limo that she didn't recognize that was being driving by a chauffer she didn't recognize. "Why are we hiring a limo service instead of using ours?"

"Because we're going off to somewhere that nobody from Davis Farms will ever find us," said Ken, kissing his pregnant wife on the cheek. He opened the limo door for her to get in.

* * *

><p>"Mom and Dad,<p>

Isabelle and I need some time alone together. Sorry for the short notice. We'll be back someday, so you can look forward to meeting your new baby grandson.

Your son,

Ken"

Marisol's heart stopped. "Mr. Davis!" she called, "Look!"

Grant walked over to her and frowned as he read the note. "My goodness. He didn't even say where they're going."

"Where do you think he's going?" asked Marisol frantically.

"I have no idea," said Grant. "Regina!"

"Yes, darling?" called Regina.

"Did Kenneth tell you where he's going?" asked Grant.

"Whatever are you talking about?"

Marisol didn't stay. She ran to where the Davis family cars were kept. "Randolph!" she called.

"Yes?" said the chauffer. "Did you hear the latest?"

"Where are Ken and Isabelle?" asked Marisol.

Randolph shrugged. " I have no idea. They wouldn't let me drive them. Ken made it clear that no one was to know where they were going. Do you have any idea why they're leaving?"

White-faced, Marisol shook her head and started walking back to her trailer. No. This couldn't be happening. There was no way whatsoever that Ken had left Davis Farms with Isabelle. Not after last night.

* * *

><p>Isabelle was smiling as she nibbled on her roast beef up in her new San Francisco penthouse. Being here alone with Ken on the top of the world, this exhilarating change of scenery, once again in the lap of luxury…was <em>heaven<em>. Ken had already hired two nannies for the baby and a maid to clean the house, but that was it. He was so attentive to her now that it was adorable. He was always willing to rub her feet and bring her things and do whatever else she wanted, and for some reason, he kept apologizing for the fight they'd had over and over.

Suddenly, she felt her stomach jerk. No, it wasn't her stomach. It was…

"Ken!" she called. "It's time!"

* * *

><p>Marisol was sitting on the bed in her trailer. It had been a solid month since Ken left, but it felt like two minutes. She opened the cell phone she was using-<em>his<em> cell phone that he'd left behind so nobody could call-and dialed the number for the next hospital in the phone book. She was busy looking for Ken in the only way she could think of. "Hi, I'm...Isabelle Davis's sister," she said. "Is this the maternity ward she's staying at?"

"Let me check…no, we have no one here by that name."

"Okay, thanks," said Marisol. Then she put the phone down and sighed. No matter how long it took-if she had to call every hospital in the country and then some-she was _going_ to track down Ken. Even if they couldn't be together, which she still desperately hoped they would-she wanted to hear how the hell he was going to justify what he'd done to her. Leaving Davis Farms for no apparent reason was brutal enough, but the fact that he'd spent the night with her first, leaving her wanting him more than ever…that was inexcusable.

Besides, she had something she had to tell him as soon as possible.


	6. Chapter 6

The Davis Family Chapter Six

_Note to scifiromance: Junior is actually NOT older than Matt, they are 17 in the first episode and so is Kris. P.S. Thanks for all the reviews!_

In San Francisco, Ken was just coming home from a day at the office. He had gotten a job as a financial advisor for a local company. Not that he needed the money. He just needed something to keep his mind occupied.

"Ken, wait!"

Ken froze in his tracks instantly. He knew that voice. He would have known it anywhere. "Wait!" she yelled.

He had to keep going. He had to run away from her. But how could he?

"Why, Ken?" said Marisol breathlessly, when she finally caught up with him. "Why?"

"We can't do this," said Ken. "I'm sorry I spent the night with you before I left."

Who was he kidding? No he wasn't. Other than his son's birth, the memory of that night was the only thing keeping him going.

"Why not?" said Marisol. "I love you, you love me and…and I'm pregnant!"

Ken froze. "You're having a baby?"

"Yes," said Marisol. "I'm having _your_ baby."

"Oh, I'm so sorry Marisol," said Ken.

"And I have two weeks left on my visa before I get deported," said Marisol. "Unless…"

Ken suddenly snapped when he realized where this was going. "Unless _what_? I divorce my wife in the next two seconds and I marry you? I could never show my face back at Davis Farms again, and Junior…no. I can't lose everything I have chasing this infatuation."

"Infatuation?" said Marisol. "Infatuation! Are you really going to pretend you're not in love with me?"

"Forget it, Marisol," said Ken. "We can't. We're too…too different. He opened up his wallet. "Here, take this." He handed her all the money in there. It was at least three thousand dollars. Maybe four.

Marisol stood there for a moment. She looked at the money. Then she threw it back at Ken. Then she spat at him.

"How could you do this to me?" she screamed. "How could you? _How could you_?" Then she ran off into the crowd.

Slowly, Ken made his way back to his penthouse and walked inside. He tried to block her final words and tear-stained face out of his mind, but there were still many years left to come for which it would haunt him incessantly. "Isabelle?"

"She's taking a nap," said Sophie, one of their nannies, coming out holding baby Junior. Sophie was forty-five, making her ten years older, two feet shorter, and about a hundred pounds larger than Ken: in short, she was someone that he could not possibly be attracted to. Just like all the other employees he'd been sure to hire here.

"Oh, okay," said Ken. He walked over and let the nanny carefully put the baby in his arms. He looked down at the baby. He had fuzzy black hair and nut brown eyes like Isabelle, but Junior's tiny face was a mirror image of Ken's.

"Do you think that Mrs. Davis is okay?" asked Sophie. "Most women are more active than this two weeks after giving birth."

"Not Isabelle," said Ken. "She's always been like this." Junior's birth had affected Isabelle very little. She had screamed with labor pains and had sighed with relief when the pregnancy finally ended. Then she smiled at Ken as she watched him cradle their newborn son but protested when he tried to get her to hold the baby herself, claiming she was too tired.

"Is he supposed to have such a soft head?" asked Ken.

"At this age, yes," said Sophie. Ken decided to believe her. He tried to spend an hour a day with Junior every day after he got home-even though the baby didn't do anything yet-but the rest of the time the nanny was taking care of him. Isabelle had never even touched him.

"You can take a break for a few minutes," said Ken.

"Okay, sure," said Sophie.

Ken laid back on the sofa holding his tiny lookalike son in his arms. Yes, the choice between Marisol and Isabelle could have been hard. But the choice between his girlfriend and his son…wasn't a choice at all. Not even with a new baby on the way.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Junior, what's this?" asked Sophie as she sat on the nursery floor holding up one of the eighteen-month-old child's toys.<p>

"Teddy beah!" squealed Junior.

"Yay!" cheered Sophie. "And who am I?"

Junior grinned. "Sofeeeee!"

"Yay!" she cheered.

Ken entered the front door and tossed his briefcase on the couch. "Junior, who's that?"

But Junior had already gotten up and was toddling over to Ken. "Daddyyyy!" he yelled.

"Hey, buddy," said Ken. Then he sat down and let Junior give him a hug. "I have some work to do. Go play in your room with Nanny Sophie, okay?"

Junior turned around and walked back towards his room.

Isabelle stepped out the door to the master bedroom. "Ken, I need to talk to you."

Sophie scooped up Junior and held him up at Isabelle's level. "Junior, who's this?"

The baby just starred at her. He had no idea what he was supposed to call her. She never even talked to him.

"Ken," said Isabelle. "I got us tickets to the opera for tomorrow night. Do you have time to go?"

Ken smiled. "Sure." Then he gave her a quick flat kiss.

"Great," said Isabelle. "I'll go buy myself a dress!" Then she was out the door.

Ken sighed and opened up his briefcase. Buried within one of his many folders of financial reports and listings and phone numbers and facts and figures was a letter written on a ripped piece of notebook paper.

"Please come and visit me and your daughter. I'm not asking for a lot, Ken. Every Friday, there's an eight a.m. flight from the San Francisco airport that lands in the airport in Beliz near a train station. From there you can take the train that arrives in my hometown at seven p.m. I'll be waiting there every week until you come. I only want you to come down here one time. Just once. Then you can get back on the train and be home by the following night."

If Marisol's goal in sending that letter was to torture Ken, she had succeeded. Every week he was tempted to book a flight, and every week he didn't. He could lose everything-Isabelle, Junior, his reputation, maybe even his family would turn on him if they knew.

But there were times when it felt like none of that would matter. Except for Junior. And he might just be the one thing that Ken could avoid losing.

* * *

><p>In El Salvador, Marisol was sitting on a bench at the train station with her nine-month-old daughter in her arms. She closed her eyes and pretended that Ken was coming off of it. But he wasn't. There were no Americans on there at all. "Someday, chica," Marisol whispered to the baby. "You'll be with him someday."<p>

Now she wished she had taken the money that Ken had offered her. Maybe that could possibly have been enough to give this baby the life she deserved. No. There was no way that it would have been enough to take care of this baby forever. Not the way that Ken could-and would, if his devotion to his other child was any indication. _Maybe he can turn me away_, thought Marisol. _But there is no way that he can say no to this beautiful child_. The child that she would have done anything in the world to keep. But being a single mother in this part of the world was just too hard. There was nothing she knew how to do for money except train horses, and there were no horses around that she could train. Even if there were, she had nobody to take care of the baby. Right now they were living on pennies borrowed from various friends and relatives, and all that managed to do was keep them both fed. They were living in a bed in Marisol's aunt's closet along with the washing machine and when the weather got bad, some goats. She had nothing to do all day except take care of the baby, help with some household chores, and no matter what else she was doing, think about Ken. She checked her watch often. Eight a.m. in El Salvador meant six a.m. in San Francisco. He was probably still sleeping. Nine p.m. in El Salvador meant seven p.m. in San Francisco. He was probably either crunching numbers or eating dinner with Isabelle. Four in the afternoon for her meant two in the afternoon for him. She had no idea what he might be doing then. Maybe he was with Isabelle. Maybe he was with Junior. Maybe he was thinking of her. Maybe he never thought of her. Not knowing how he felt about her was absolutely killing her.

_The sooner that this ends_, thought Marisol, _the better_.


	7. Chapter 7

The Davis Family Chapter Seven

Another six months or so dragged on by. Isabelle was always wanting to go to the opera or the theater or to some fancy restaurant or the country club. Ken used to enjoy these activities, but now he was becoming so depressed that it became nearly impossible for him to enjoy anything. Whenever he wasn't playing with Junior, which he made sure he did at some point every day, he was busy at his desk with papers scattered all around in front of him, working, working, working. The letter that he'd gotten from Marisol still haunted him. He knew that when he was with Marisol, he'd been happier than at any other time in his life. But he was happy with Isabelle too, wasn't he? He remembered the cheerful early days of their relationship, before pregnancy made her disgruntled and irritable, going out with her all the time and enjoying living the high life. Surely he could get them back eventually. Maybe someday when he dared returning to Davis Farms and facing all the memories of Marisol there.

"Daddy?"

Ken looked up from his stack of papers. His two-year-old son was standing there and smiling, dark hair falling over one brown eye. "Yes?"

"I wove you!" said Junior. Ken smiled. "Daddy? Do you wove someone?"

Ken tried to keep Marisol from popping into his head but wasn't successful. "Of course I love someone. You."

"Someone else," said Junior, in a voice that suggested Ken was a complete moron.

Ken swallowed hard. "I love your mother."

"Isabelle?" said Junior.

It suddenly occurred to Ken how weird it was that Junior didn't even know not to call Isabelle by his first name.

"She never plays with you, does she?" said Ken.

"No," said Junior.

Ken realized that Isabelle had never said anything to him that indicated that she cared about their son. Hell, she never said anything to him about their son. What did she talk to him about? Well, lots of things. Finances. His job. Clothes. Places they could go. Champagne. Spas…

_All of which were related to money._

That was, in one word, all that Isabelle ever talked to him about. That was all she had talked to him about since…well…ever.

"You do _not_ wove her," said Junior. He walked up and patted Ken's arm as if to say, silly daddy

Ken suddenly put down everything he was working on. "You know what? You're absolutely right."

Junior grinned, although he had no idea what he'd been right about.

"You know what?" said Ken. "I have somewhere I have to go."

"Playground?" asked Junior.

"No, somewhere without you," said Ken assertively. "But I'll come back for you. I promise."

"Okay," said Junior. "Bye!"

Ken reached into the briefcase and pulled out his letter from Marisol on his way out.

* * *

><p>Ken barely noticed the hours literally flying by as he starred at the back of the airplane seat in front of him, realizing little by little where he'd been for the past two years. He didn't love Isabelle, and she didn't love him…and probably never had. Maybe his entire marriage to her had been a lie. One thing was for sure, and that was that his relationship with Marisol, however messed up it had been, had been real. And so was the love that he still had for her now.<p>

* * *

><p>Marisol looked up from her bench at the train station, her baby no longer a baby but almost a little girl. She sighed contentedly, unsure of why she and her Mama had to carry out this boring ritual week after week, getting dressed up in some nice clothes that had pieces of paper sewn into them, going down to the train station, watching people go by, and then leaving without doing anything else.<p>

"You'll understand someday," Marisol whispered, kissing the little girl's forehead.

Then the train pulled in. Marisol looked up, hopeful as ever.

"Please let him be here this time," she whispered. "Please let my baby girl finally have the life she deserves."

Marisol blinked, and there he was. She stood up slowly, somehow unable to believe her eyes. She had been hoping for so long that he would come, but now that he was finally here, she was just numb.

He caught her eyes. "Marisol," he whispered. His face was blank. But there were so many things that he wanted to be saying right now. I love you, not Isabelle. I don't care what anybody else thinks. Letting you go was the biggest mistake of my life. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I don't care if it's here or at Davis Farms or anywhere else in the world. As long as we can take Junior with us, and we're all happy together, I don't care where we go. I love you. I need you.

"Mama?" said the little girl questioningly. She didn't know who this man was.

Marisol took a deep breath. Her whole heart was screaming at her not to do what she was about to do, but she had to. For all their sakes. She had realized more than a year ago that she couldn't be with Ken, not now, not ever. His family. Isabelle. Junior. No way. There was no way that he would give it all up for her.

But maybe he would be willing to give up at least something for this baby.

"Forgive me, my love," she murmured in Spanish into the baby's soft little ear. Then she held her tight for just one more second and then put her down into Ken's arms.

Ken was slightly startled as he looked down at the baby's tiny face. Like Junior, she had her mother's eyes, but her facial features were all Ken's. Her hair color and skin tone were both a shade halfway between Ken's nut brown hair and white skin and Marisol's mocha skin and black hair. There was no doubt whatsoever that this was their child. Ken imagined playing with her and Junior together in a house with Marisol, laughing along with them both at whatever he was doing to entertain them. He imagined them taking the children to school together and waving at the gate. He imagined himself and Marisol growing old together, sitting on the porch-maybe at Davis Farms, maybe somewhere else, it really didn't matter-smiling at each other as if to say, "we've made it".

"She's perfect," said Ken. The he blinked. He didn't see Marisol anywhere. "Marisol?" He began looking around. "Marisol!"


	8. Chapter 8

The Davis Family Chapter Eight

Ken boarded the train wearily. He had walked around as far as he could without getting lost, holding the baby girl, and asked everyone who he saw that could speak English where she was. But Marisol was absolutely nowhere to be found.

"She's gone," he whispered to himself. The words sounded like they were coming from somebody else's mouth.

"Mama?" said the baby questioningly. Then she started whining and squirming. Ken put her down on his lap and she looked up at him with Marisol's beautiful brown eyes. Those scared, confused eyes broke his heart. He turned to look out the window so he didn't have to look at them.

"Mama!" demanded the baby. "Mama, Mama, Mama!" Then she burst into tears.

If he were back at home and this were Junior being fussy, this was the time that Ken would have called Sophie. He looked around. There was nobody to tell him what to do.

"What am I doing with you, anyway?" said Ken. "I don't even know your name." He reached to stroke the baby's back and realized that his hand was on something crinkly. He realized that a pocket had been sewn into her shirt and pulled out whatever was in there. He found three things: a birth certificate, a passport, and a folded-up piece of paper. Ken examined the birth certificate. Daniela Maria deEsquevala. "I'm going to have to change your name," mumbled Ken. "How about we make you Danielle Davis? I kind of like that." The little girl kept fussing. Ken was too weary to even notice the discontented looks from the other passengers. He put the birth certificate aside and examined the baby's passport. Everything was there, including her birth date. Exactly eight months and fourteen days after Junior's. Ken put both documents into the pocket of his coat and opened up the note, crinkled, smudged, and tear-stained.

"My dear Kenneth,

I'm very sorry that things had to happen this way. I know that no matter how much I might have cared for you or you might have cared for me, I had no right to interfere with your marriage. Or with your career. Or with your life. I only hope that you can forgive me enough to take care of our daughter. Daniela is the kind of baby who is slow to warm up at first and will do whatever it takes to get what she wants, but once she loves you she will love you forever. Please let her know that if there was any way that I could have given her the kind of life that you can…or even close to it…I never would have made this decision. And that I love her more than life itself. It kills me to give her up.

Yours forever,

Marisol."

Ken looked at the baby. Then at the letter. Then he folded the letter and put it in his pocket along with the other things. Then he scooped the baby up in his arms and started to cry.

* * *

><p>Marisol wanted to scream, but her voice was too numb to work. She wanted to cry, but her eyes refused to tear up. She wanted to run, but her legs felt like lead.<p>

_I'm all alone. I lost the love of my life. I lost my baby girl. I will never see either of them again. I'm all alone. I lost the love of my life. I lost my baby girl. I will never see either of them again. I'm all alone. I lost the love of my life. I lost my baby girl. I will never see either of them again._ The words stuck in her brain like a broken record refusing to stop playing.

Marisol wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Then she dragged herself slowly towards the very spot she had been planning to go to for some time now. The only thing that had kept her away was Daniela. And now she was gone.

Marisol walked until she came to the stone bridge that ran across a deep lake. She had gone wading here with her friends as a child. But she'd never learned how to swim in it. She felt the cold hardness of the stone under each foot as she climbed up onto the ledge. "Forgive me, Ken," she whispered. And then she jumped.


	9. Chapter 9

The Davis Family Chapter 9

"Welcome to America," said the customs officer at the San Francisco airport the next morning. "May I see a passport and additional form of identification for you and for your child?"

Ken wordlessly pulled out the documents and set them on her desk. Of course. Marisol knew he would need those things. She'd thought of everything.

Well, everything except for extra diapers for the baby, which Ken had had to borrow from another woman on the plane who also taught him how to put them on. It was an experience he definitely didn't care to repeat.

Ken was hoping that when he got home, Isabelle wouldn't be there. She was. She was laying on the couch reading a book but didn't look up when he walked in the door. "Daddy!" yelled Junior, running over to the door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw what Ken was holding. "What's that?"

"This is your…this is Danielle," said Ken.

Junior looked at him questioningly. "Daniel?"

"No, not Daniel," said Ken. "Danielle."

"Uh-huh," said Junior. "Daniel."

"No, Danielle," said Ken.

Junior just starred at him for a second. "Dani," he said firmly.

"Okay," said Ken. "I guess that's a compromise." Sophie came up behind Ken. Ken handed her Dani and said, "Take her and Junior to Junior's room, okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Davis," said Sophie confusedly.

That's when Isabelle suddenly looked up. "Aw, who is she? A playdate for Junior?"

"Isabelle," said Ken softly. Suddenly realizing he was being serious, she looked up. "She's my daughter."

In moments, the expression on Isabelle's face flitted from shock, to horror, to pure anger. "You…you brought home a _love child_? How old?"

"Sixteen months," said Ken.

"Oh my god," said Isabelle, doing the math in her head. "It _was_ Marisol, wasn't it? They were telling the truth."

"No," said Ken. "I was only ever with her one time, and it was after they said that."

"Oh puh-leeze!" said Isabelle.

"I _was_!" said Ken.

"You were probably out in the barn banging her the entire time I was pregnant," said Isabelle. "And I always thought you were so understanding about my no-sex rule. But no…you had to go out and disgrace me!"

"Disgrace _you_?" said Ken.

"Yes!" shouted Isabelle. "Do you know what my friends would say if they found out that my husband brought home some bastard? _Do you_?" Then she turned to one of the maids, who was busy cleaning the counter. "Emily! Pack my shit up for me! I'm leaving!"

Ken's mouth dropped open. This was a side of Isabelle that he had never seen before. "Goodbye," said Isabelle. "I'll be suing you for alimony!"

"Alimony?" said Ken. "_Alimony_? Hold on here, Isabelle!" He thundered. "I don't think so! I'm the one with the money, the connections, the family background, and the rich lawyers who know my father. I'm holding all the cards, and we both know it. You walk out that door now, and you're not getting a thin dime!"

Isabelle froze. Then she turned around. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. "You know what I want?" said Isabelle. "I want a hundred thousand dollars to start my life over with. And I want to walk away with my reputation intact. I don't want people judging me because of that…that bastard."

Ken clenched his jaw for a second. "You know what would help both of our reputations, Isabelle? If everyone could somehow be convinced that _that bastard_ is yours."

Isabelle blinked. Suddenly, both Ken and Isabelle realized that because they had cut off contact with everyone from Davis Farms, this was completely possible. And it was in both of their best interests.

"You're right, Ken. Give me a hundred grand, and nobody will ever find out."

"Sounds like a plan," said Ken. A hundred grand was pocket change to him. "You sign a document stating that you are never telling anyone that Danielle isn't your child, and you sign a separate document stating that you are never to get into contact with any of my children. I give you the hundred grand, and you walk away."

"Wait a minute?" said Isabelle, suddenly realizing the implication of what he'd just said. "You mean you want _them_ to think that she's mine?"

"I mean I don't want to talk about it with them," said Ken. "Ever."

"But then Junior…he could end up thinking she's his full sister," said Isabelle.

"Since when do you care so much about Junior?" said Ken. "You only ever _had_ him to throw me a bone."

"True," said Isabelle. "But I'm not going to sign a legal agreement saying that I can't get into contact with him."

Ken rolled his eyes. "Suddenly developing a conscience, Isabelle? You should have thought of that before you told me you loved me and sucked me into this pathetic excuse for a marriage."

Isabelle said nothing, because it was true.

"I'll do everything you want," she said. "Except sign a piece of paper saying that my own son can never contact me."

Ken sighed and relented. "But you'll sign one for Danielle."

"Okay…fine," said Isabelle reluctantly. She still wasn't sure about them not ever finding out the truth. But what choice did she have?

"I'm going to stay with Marion," she announced.

"I'll have the documents sent over in the morning," said Ken.

Then the taxi pulled up, and Isabelle left, the maids trailing behind her with six suitcases full of clothes. The maids went away with Isabelle, leaving only Ken, Junior, Sophie, and Dani.

In the bedroom, Junior was walking around rolling his cars around on the floor like he always did and Dani was following him around, picking them up, and throwing them. Ken came in and sat down on the floor. "Hey, kids. Guess what?"

Junior walked over. "What?" Dani toddled clumsily behind, focusing more on Junior than Ken for the moment.

"We're going to go live at Davis Farms," said Ken. Both kids starred blankly. "It's a mansion. Your grandma and grandpa live there." They continued to stare blankly. "It has horses."

At that, Junior's face lit up. "Horsey! Yay!" Then Dani started cheering just because Junior was cheering. "Sophie!" said Junior. "We're moving!"

"Well…" Ken froze, looking down at his son's hopeful face. "Hold on just a second." Ken stood up and motioned for Sophie to leave the room with them.

"Mr. Davis, what's going on?" said Sophie. "Are you letting me go?"

"Listen to me," said Ken. "Everyone at home is to think that that little girl in there, Danielle, is mine and Isabelle's daughter."

"But she's really your daughter?" said Sophie.

"Exactly," said Ken. "But I'm going to tell everyone that Dani has always lived with us and that she's Isabelle's daughter. If you can promise me that you will tell everyone exactly what I want you too about this, then you can come back to Davis Farms with me and I'll keep you on as a nanny for both the children. The day that you tell anybody the truth about them, you're out in the street."

"Okay," said Sophie. "I promise, I'll never tell anyone."


	10. Chapter 10

The Davis Family Chapter 10

Later that same day, Ken woke up in his limo wedged between two bulky car seats. After over two years of being away, Davis Farms was a welcoming sight. But something was different about it. Something besides the fact that neither Isabelle nor Marisol was here and Junior and Dani were.

As they came up the driveway, Ken saw that there were about a third as many horses as there were before he left. There were also far fewer people around than he remembered-in fact, there was no one else around at all. There were also several overgrown plants and dirty floors and piles of horse dung that hadn't been scooped. Compared to what it was the way Ken was used to it, this place was in absolute disrepair.

"Everything looks lovely," said Sophie.

"No," said Ken. "Something's wrong. Wait here."

Ken jumped over one of the kids car seats-he couldn't remember which-and dashed around to the other side of the mansion. "Mother!" he yelled. "Father! Anyone?"

Ken froze when he saw a small group of people all draped in black huddled about five hundred feet away from him, in the Davis family cemetery. Without even thinking about his suit and the mud, Ken ran right from where he was to the little graveyard. No one had heard him. "We are gathered here today," said the priest. "To mourn the loss of Grant Johnson Davis, loving husband of Regina Wilhemina Stratford Davis and loving father of Kenneth Stratford Davis, who was unable to be here today."

"I'm right here," said Ken.

Every head in the cemetery swiveled toward him. He caught one pair of eyes that was hidden under a black veil. Ken jumped over the cemetery gate and walked over to her. "Mother," he said softly.

"Oh, Kenny!" said Regina. Then she wrapped her arms around him and started to cry into the shoulder of his pressed jacket.

After the ceremony was over, Ken brought the children into the living room to meet their grandmother. "Such little dears!" she crooned. Oh dear lord, how could your mother have left you two?"

"Taxi," said Junior.

Regina shook her head. "Oh, good lord. I always knew that she wasn't the right woman for you, Ken. I'm having bedrooms prepared for you and the children right now. They're so adorable. Both of them with that dark hair from Isabelle and your face. And look at now tan Danielle's skin is!"

Ken laughed. "Yep," he said smoothly. "She's a real throwback to the Italian side of Isabelle's family."

Regina laughed. "I'd say so." Then thankfully, she changed the subject. "I'm sorry if this place isn't looking as fine as what you're used to, Ken. It's just that your father has been ill, and I myself have no idea how to manage things."

"Well I do, Mother," said Ken. "So it's a good thing I came back."

"I'll say it is," said Regina.

"Daddy," said Junior. "Where horseys?"

"Outside," said Ken. "Let me show you guys around." He scooped up Dani in his arms and shuddered when he remembered Marisol placing her in his arms and leaving. That had happened less than two days ago, yet it now felt like lifetimes. "Come on, Junior."

Outside, there were several other people walking around. The only one who clearly wasn't an employee was a young woman with short blonde hair holding a tiny little boy with brown curls and a face that looked almost too solid and handsome for his age. Ken thought he recognized her but wasn't sure there.

"Oh, hello, Ken," said the young woman. "Welcome home. I wish it were under better circumstances, though."

"Thanks," said Ken. "You're…Jean Ritter, right?"

"Yep," said Jean. "And this is Matty."

In her arms, Matt looked over at Dani and waved. She waved back. Ken laughed. But he couldn't help but hate the loving way Jean was cradling Matty in her arms. Isabelle had never held Junior that way, if she'd ever held him at all. Was this the way Marisol had held Dani? Was this what he had taken away from her?

"Does your father still own Raintree Farms?" asked Ken.

"Of course," said Jean. "Pete and I are living there with Matty."

"Oh, really," said Ken. "Well, it looks like we're going to be neighbors then, because I'm moving back in here."

"Really?" said Jean. "That's wonderful." Ken saw Junior walk up to Matty and tap his foot. Then they started babbling to each other in toddler speak. Jean laughed. "I think they want to play together. Do you mind?"

"No, not at all," said Ken. He smiled as Jean sat Matty down on the floor and he started walking around with Junior. It was never too early for his son to start getting in good with the competition.

Later that night, Ken walked into Dani's bedroom to check on her and saw that she was missing. Frantically, he went over to Junior's room and opened the door. There they both were laying down on his tiny bed. Dani was asleep and Junior was half asleep and stroking her back. "Junior, what's she doing in here?" asked Ken.

"She got scared," said Junior. "Goodnight, Daddy."

Ken starred at then for a second and thought about making Dani go back to her own room. _Nah_, he thought. _What the hell? She's already asleep._

Then Ken paused in the doorway for one last second and starred at their innocent faces. Davis faces. Isabelle's colors on Junior. Marisol's colors on Dani. This was all he had left from the each of the only two women that he ever fallen in love with.

And in that moment, Ken Davis made two promises to himself that would remain forever unbroken: that he would never again allow himself to feel the kind of love for anyone that he had felt for either Isabelle or Marisol, and that he would never allow either of these children to repeat his mistakes.


End file.
